So What's So Funny?

Last night, I went to the first of a series of monthly writing workshops that 826 Seattle is holding for adults, How to Write Like I Do. Last night's was How to Be Funny, with John Moe (of NPR and McSweeney's) and Ryan Boudinot (also of McSweeney's, and author of books with titles like The Littlest Hitler).

Free coffee was enjoyed, space accoutremonts were sold, and some very interesting points were made:

• John Moe believes that "funny" is empathy, warmth and the act of exposing humanity in inhumane places. There is a relief and a joy in finding shared humanity, and relief + joy = funny. As he pointed out, the alternative to that is that everything is crude and horrible, like a bad MadTV sketch or that guy in your 11th grade biology class who was popular for making fun of people.

• John Moe also believes that "Richard Pryor is funny, and Dane Cook is obviously...not." For instance, as you may know, one time Richard Pryor was supercrazy1980high after freebasing cocaine, and he set himself on fire and ran down the street. He worked it into his act for his 1982 special, noting that "When you're on fire and running down the street, people will get out of your way." This is funny because, among other reasons, Pryor survived this psychotic episode, made sure to observe what was going on around him when it happened, then took the time to comment on it later, in the same way a lesser comic might make a joke about how buses don't always wait for the people running after them. A similar Dane Cook quote that John Moe found ("and this isn't verbatim, but I think it is pretty close") is "Blah blah blah MySpace blah blah blah I'm Dane Cook."

• Ryan Boudinot raised the question, "What is so funny about Monty Python's Ministry of Silly Walks?" It isn't the walking, although maybe a sketch could survive on that alone. It is John Cleese's face. Except for the legs, he looks like any English bureaucrat might on his way in to work. I think I'd also add that it is funny in two shifts, specifically: the first being the doubtful fact that Britain would need and sustain (and create plaques for) a Ministry of Silly Walks; and the second shift is, as Ryan pointed out, the deadpan execution. Monty Python works so well because they are entirely committed to the absurdity and refuse to wink at the audience.* This is why "Fawlty Towers" isn't as funny, at times, despite the similar materials and players - it can get too aware of the people watching it. Like a hipster on a fixed-gear bike.

• John Moe pointed out that it is funnier when something good happens to someone who doesn't expect it than when something bad happens to someone who deserves it. Think of the Soggy Bottom Boys' accidental concert at the grange in "O Brother, Where Art Thou?" and their shock and delight that the attendees not only know them, but adore them.

• When asked about how he constructed his plots, Ryan waffled a bit, and finally settled on the fact that he didn't, really. Writing - and concluding a story - is like being Ed Harris in "Apollo 13." You send your folks out into their setting, and when a problem or obstacle presents itself, you and your engineers figure out everything that your characters have at their disposal, then solve the crisis with those tools, and only those tools. If you've come across a better Ed Harris metaphor, I'd love to hear it - because I think that one gets the gold.

* Not to say that winking negates funny. For instance, drag queens are funny, and there is no comedy that is winkier - in every sense, I suppose - than drag, right?